


i'll be starry eyed (for you).

by fastforwardty



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alien dan, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, But whatever, Gen, Phandom Big Bang, Phandom Big Bang 2016, Platonic Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, i don't understand, phil's just like. casually best buds w an alien. it's cool, plant boy phil, space boy dan, technically, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fastforwardty/pseuds/fastforwardty
Summary: phil lester is botany major who's never been one to wish on shooting stars. that is, until one lands in his backyard.





	i'll be starry eyed (for you).

**Author's Note:**

> this work was originally published on tumblr as part of the phandom big bang

**// the universe began with our eyes closed.**

  
sleeping is nice. incredibly nice. it's the only time phil lester can ever not think about things. everything is so nice and quiet and calm and _peaceful_ when you're asleep.  
being rudely awoken at three in the morning by a loud crash outside of his window, that wasn't so nice and quiet. and it definitely wasn’t peaceful.  
so phil groaned as he felt himself be pulled back into consciousness. and he groaned as he strained to open one eye. and he groaned as he strained to open the other eye. and he groaned as he flipped his duvet off of him. and he groaned as his bare feet hit the carpet. and he groaned as he saw a hideously fluorescent glow outside his bedroom window. and he groaned a few not-so-nice words as he noticed what could only be classified as an unidentified flying object resting ever-so-aggressively in the middle of his back garden.

  
**// suddenly i see you.**

  
there was a ufo.  
in his backyard.  
_in his garden._  
surely his hybrid roses had been crushed, and that patch of tomatoes he had been working on must've been a goner.  
he pulled the sheer curtains to the side as he looked into his back garden, squinting at the horribly stereotypical bright green glow emitting from the object. the object reminded phil of superman, but phil prayed that superman didn't just land on his flowerbed and crush his roses.  
the pod, ship, whatever it was, had to have been at least six feet long. a small green-tinted window peered into the small cabin, but the inside view was clouded by some sort of gas.  
phil’s life had never felt more disgustingly like a science fiction story. what was next? little green men pouring out like the ship is a clown car? god knows what they would do to phil's garden.  
but of course, phil had to go out there and see what was up. he slipped his feet into the pair of house shoes beside his bed and shoved on his glasses, clad in spider-man pajama pants and a black t-shirt. if he had been worried about making a good first impression with extraterrestrials, he probably would have changed into a pair of pajamas that didn't have a hole in a very compromising spot.  
shuffling out of his room and into the kitchen was the most labor-intensive thing phil had ever done whilst still half-asleep. seeing as how he probably wouldn't be sleeping any time soon, he put the coffee on before approaching his back door.  
it's not that phil was scared or anything, but there was something in him that physically would not allow his hand to turn the doorknob. besides, what was the worst that could happen?  
almost instantaneously, a rolodex of worst-case scenarios played through phil's head. the abducting, the probing, you know, just alien things.  
he didn't even know if that thing out there was alien. inside, phil was hoping this was all some bizarre dream, or a far-too elaborate prank. there couldn't be an alien in his back garden, suffocating his roses and squashing his tomatoes.  
phil's hand shook as his turned the doorknob, as if it were trying to tell him just how bad of an idea this was. phil could feel his body screaming at him, telling him to stop, to call the police, to stay as far away from whatever was just beyond that door as possible.  
but his hand kept turning the doorknob, and his internal self kept protesting, and his external self kept shaking.  
slowly, shakily, phil pulled the door open and peeked his head around the corner of the frame. the artificial green light made his eyes burn. he left the door open behind him as he stepped onto the stone pathway that led straight to his garden. and the ship. noticing the trowel that leaned against the bricks, phil grabbed the metal handle and braced himself with a weapon, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. his grip tightened on the two ends of the wood as he held it across his chest, tip-toeing over to the crash.  
phil approached the crash as though any sudden movements could break the ship even more than it already had been broken.  
nothing was happening. crickets continued to make cricket noises, neighbors somehow continued to sleep. the neighborhood seemed entirely undisturbed by the intruder. everything was normal for everyone but phil lester, who had a literal _ufo_ in his backyard.  
_maybe it's not alien,_ phil thought. _maybe this is all some elaborate prank and i won't get probed by little green men that landed in my backyard and crushed my flowerbed._  
phil always was the reckless optimist.  
his arms tensed as he aimed the end of the trowel towards the little green window. phil was _definitely_ awake now.  
he held his breath, he closed his eyes, and he slammed the end of the trowel against the glass.  
and nothing happened.  
so he tried again.  
still nothing.  
phil kept banging and banging, but to no avail. after awhile, he figured whatever was in there wasn't planning on coming out anytime soon. lowering the trowel and his guard, phil turned on his heels, admitting self-defeat and yet eternally grateful that he wasn't gonna get probed tonight.  
phil of course swallowed his words when he heard the cliché air-sucking of the ship's door opening. _please don't do weird alien stuff to me, please don't do weird alien stuff to me,_ phil repeated like a mantra in his head as he turned back over his shoulder. _i just got out of university and it's like four a.m. i'm too tired for this._  
thick grey smoke billowed out of the chamber. _chamber? weird alien shippy thingy?_ whatever it was, it terrified phil with every contradictory step he took towards it.  
he certainly didn't expect to be scared out of his mind by a kid, well, what looked like a kid. not even a kid, really; phil figured he couldn’t have been much older than 18.  
he looked like any other person phil would see on the street. grey t-shirt, jeans, “normal” clothes.  
he looked human.  
he looked dead.  
he might not even be a "he."  
phil's moral compass wavered back and forth between "take the poor kid inside" and "run and call the police" before he was lifting whoever or whatever it was out of the chamber and towards his house.  
_what in god’s name are you doing?!_ his brain shouted at him as he scooped the kid up into his arms. _put him down! put him down!_ but he wasn't putting this kid down. what if he needed help? what if he was hurt? since when did phil feel sympathetic for aliens?  
phil waddled through the open door with the kid draped unconscious in his arms. phil thought it was sort of funny how his was calling the kid a kid. he definitely wasn't that young, but of course, phil didn't really know how aliens age compared to humans. either way, the kid looked like he couldn't have been much younger than phil.  
once phil had made his way inside withe the kid in-tow, he simply placed him on the sofa that sat in the middle of the living room. his arm flopped over the front of the sofa as phil put him down, the back of his hand brushing against the carpet.  
phil's next mission was the figure out what to do with the huge ufo in his backyard. he went back outside, leaving the back door open, and examined the crash. phil figured he could drag it back through the pathway the ship made when it crashed and stash it somewhere. he didn't know what to do it with it so that it wouldn't be blatantly obvious that there was a ufo in his backyard, but he also figured it would be on the morning news when he woke up. he could already see the headlines.  
_BREAKING! UFO CRASH IN 22-YEAR-OLD'S BACKYARD!_  
phil did not want to deal with reporters flocking to his door in the morning. but the sun was already rising, and phil had gotten barely any sleep.  
his hands brushed the cold metal of the hull, sending shockwaves through his body. phil stood in the dirt pathway and grabbed the two sides of the ship. he used all of the force in his body to pull the ship backwards, immediately falling into the dirt when the ship instantly gave away. brushing the dirt off of his pajamas, he stood back up and reached for the two sides, using far less force this time. the ship moved easily in the dirt, so phil tried picking it up into his arms, just to see what would happen.  
it was like styrofoam in his arms, far more effortless than carrying the kid. once he had found a suitable spot that wasn't on top of his flower bed, he finally went back inside and closed the door.  
phil didn't really expect to see the kid fully conscious and sitting up on his sofa.

  
**// i’ll keep you safe.**

  
there was an alien.  
on his sofa.  
_in his house._  
"oh, hello," phil heard an unfamiliar voice say. he was, of course, far too distracted to notice the kid staring at him.  
phil was at a loss for words, to say the least. he simply stared.  
"aren't- aren't you a-" phil sputtered, his wide eyes darting back and forth between his back garden and the kid.  
"yeah," he replied simply.  
"but- you're-" phil sputtered, completely dumbfounded as to how what he assumed was an alien sounded so absurdly _human._  
"speaking english. and wearing _human_ clothes. yeah, those too," the kid seemed so _normal._ he sounded like he was from wokingham or something.  
"can- can you, like-" phil tried using his hands to get his point across as his words failed him.  
"explain? yeah, if you want, i guess," he was incredibly straightforward and matter-of-fact. "wanna sit down?"  
phil didn't really understand why an alien was asking him if he wanted to sit down in his own home, but if he didn't sit down he would most likely pass out.  
phil sat down on the other end of the sofa, feeling incredibly uneasy. "do you want some tea?" he asked, forgetting the circumstances but knowing that a cup of tea would calm him down, or provide a placebo effect of being calm when he most definitely _should not_ be calm.  
"tea? i've heard the word, but i've never had any before," the kid admitted curiously.  
"okay, i'll make you some," phil stood shakily and walked to the kitchen. he knew the kid was staring at him, watching as phil boiled the water and made the tea.  
phil typically made his tea with a glump of milk and two sugars, so he did the same for the kid's. he sat the mug carefully in front of the kid, who watched the steam rise from the mug intently.  
"that's steam," phil laughed, finally feeling less tense with a warm mug in his hands. "don't try to drink it yet, it's still pretty hot."  
"black tea with milk and two sugars," the kid stated.  
"you know what it is?" phil couldn't help but be surprised with the kid's seemingly growing knowledge.  
"yeah, that's part of my story."  
phil sat back down on the opposite end of the sofa and held the mug to his lips, taking a small sip. the kid watched as phil did so, mimicking him with his own mug. he didn't say anything about the taste.  
"so, what _is_ your story?" phil had finally calmed down enough to form full sentences, but he was still pretty shaken up about this whole ordeal. it was already seven, and phil was thankful he didn't have work today.  
"okay," the kid settled into the sofa, holding the mug with both of his hands. "where i'm from, a council picks a select few to participate in an interplanetary exchange program every few years, but earth exchanges happen far less often than any other exchange we do. i think we do earth exchanges so rarely because our planet doesn't get an earthling in exchange for one of us. anyway, when i was a baby, i was the kid they picked to be the earth exchange. my brother was picked to be a neptune exchange, and one of my friends was a mars exchange."  
phil didn't bother interrupting to ask about life on mars.  
"once kids are chosen for exchange, they- we undergo this weird assimilation thing that alters our bodies to fit in with their planet, meaning i became human. but for other people, they may become martian or neptunian or whatever. and they spend the first 18 whatever-planet-years of their lives learning what a native would on their designated planet, which means that for some of us, our 18 years is longer. and 18 is how long it takes here on earth, yes?"  
"yeah," phil was caught off-guard. "in the united kingdom, we do compulsory education until we turn 18 and then we decide whether or not we want to go to uni."  
"okay, yeah. like i learned history and maths and literature and whatever else because that’s what i would learn if i were born human. and when we turn 18, we get to pick the name we'll go by, and we forget our old names. i chose dan as my earth name, since i haven’t introduced myself yet."  
"that's a weird name for an alien," phil laughed.  
" _technically,_ i chose daniel james howell. anyway, once we choose our names, the council gives us a few months to sort out any information we'll need on our planet, as well as decide where specifically we want to go on the planet. i chose england, so i had to learn english and pick out what english accent i wanted and my hometown and background and stuff. like, i grew up in a super rural town in southern england and my parents died a year ago blah blah blah. and i'm already in the birth records because the council has to sort that out themselves."  
"so it's kind of like you’re a human that lives off the grid?" phil asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  
"yeah. like i can get a credit card if i want to, no questions asked," dan placed his now-empty mug on the coffee table.  
"well, how does that work?"  
"basically, the council has these sort of infiltrators, there are maybe one or two within each planets' governments. they transfer any sort of information into the systems."  
it was a lot of information to take in.  
phil attempted to put all of the information together in his head. "so basically, you're an alien whose biological chemistry has been altered to that of a human-" dan nodded, "and for 18 earth-years, you've been learning everything you need to about earth. and when you reached the 18th earth-year, you chose a name and backstory and all that stuff. and you're already in any government records, yeah?"  
"that's the gist of it," dan nodded again.  
"fucking weird," phil accidentally said aloud. "shit, sorry." phil didn’t swear often, really, but what else is someone supposed to say when they encounter beings from another world?  
"no, it's fine," dan reassured.  
"so, what happens now?" phil asked a while later.  
"i don't really know," dan said, somewhat anxiously. "i mean, the council created a bank account for me when everything was being finalized, but i don't have a lot of records. i have no education or work experience. i don’t have any friends or a place to live. i'm here, but i never truly existed here until now."  
phil felt guilty. he wanted to help dan, he really did, but he had no clue how to. phil lived in the cheapest apartment he could find that had a first-floor garden, and even then it was still horrendously costly. it was really a loft space with two separate bedrooms, but one of those bedrooms was filled with boxes he couldn't be assed to sort through.  
but he had to do something. he had to help him.  
"do, do you wanna stay here?" phil asked quietly. he watched as dan eyed him intently, his posture raising slightly at the offer. "i have a spare room that i can clear out, if you want."  
dan nodded slightly, "thank you."

  
**// we’ll be just fine.**

phil technically had to work for the rest of the week, but dan had become priority. he figured there was no harm in coming down with an awful case of the stomach flu, right? he'd easily miss the four days he was scheduled to work, already have the weekend off, and then be back to work the following monday, right? no harm, no foul, right?

phil was on the phone calling in sick when dan just had to ask, "what are you doing?"

phil held his hand over the receiver, "calling in sick." he fake-coughed.

"but you're not sick," dan reasoned, a bit louder than phil would've liked.

"shut up!" phil whisper-shouted, explaining his way out of work and the most recent dan-involved debacle. "that was my roommate"-cough-"asking if he could get"-sniffle-"me anything." phil's boss made an exasperated sound through the receiver before saying something about being back at work on monday, but phil was too busy covering dan's mouth so that he wouldn't say anything else to pay attention. he quickly mumbled a "yes, sir" before hanging up.

the first day of cleaning, dan sat on a stack of boxes in the corner, swinging his legs and watching as phil dug through boxes of clothes phil had yet to unpack. dan was wearing one of phil's shirts--which was too big for dan--and a pair of phil's pajama bottoms--also too big. most of the boxes were clothes, stuff phil hadn't seen since he moved in. it was easy to sort too-bigs and too-smalls and just-rights; phil figured he could give the too-smalls to dan so he'd have something to wear. dan sat with open arms as phil handed him the new stack of clothing and dashed to the bathroom to try on every garment.

the second day of cleaning, dan sat on the floor with his legs crossed, watching intently as phil sorted through knick-knacks. they had a nice system: phil would determine if an item was a keeper or not, and then he'd hand the keepers to dan to play with and examine. dan would mess around with it for a second, carefully putting it down beside him when he was done, and eagerly sit with open hands for the next thing to look at. each one felt like a delicate and precious relic in dan's hands, making him overly cautious out of fear of breaking it.

the third day of cleaning, dan sat next to phil in front of a box, leaning on phil's shoulder as phil rifled through papers. it was a lot of school papers, mostly--old uni notes with little doodles all over the margins or papers he'd somehow not burned after graduation--but at the very bottom of the box sat phil's botany notes from sixth form, the first and only course phil ever enjoyed. dan had somehow managed to notice the shift within phil from “ew, uni notes” to “aw, botany notes” and raised his head off of phil's shoulders. phil passed the stack of notes to dan, assuming he wanted to look through them. dan carefully took the papers in his hands like the knick knacks from the previous day, and he began to slowly read through every page.

the fourth day of cleaning, dan followed behind phil like they were attached by an invisible thread as phil moved the leftover boxes from the spare room into the storage shed in his backyard that he'd yet to find a use for. dan didn't seem as interested as he was before, but maybe that was because he had already seen the contents of every box phil kept in the spare room. there was nothing new for dan to fawn over and examine, nothing for him to tinker with and absorb. he didn't seem to mind, though, as he clearly was just as interested with phil's movements. dan practically clung to phil, but phil didn't mind; he figured everything was still very new to dan, so he excused dan's borderline-morbid curiosity.

after four exhausting days of cleaning, everything that needed to be sorted within phil's apartment was sorted; the spare room was finally empty and in desperate need of furnishing. phil couldn't just let dan sleep on the floor, could he? dan had already been sleeping on the sofa for the past five days--and phil knows from experience how tolling that is on your back--it seemed like a given to go out and get dan an actual mattress to sleep on. the only "furniture" in the room was a stand-up mirror and two bookcases, not exactly the best for sleeping.

phil was all set to go, a checklist of things dan would probably need in one hand, his phone in the other, and a backpack strapped over his shoulders, but dan was yet to be seen. phil waited patiently, switching between playing iphone games and tapping song rhythms against his thigh.

five minutes passed. then ten. then fifteen. then thirty minutes had passed with no dan.

"dan, what are you doing? the shops will be closed by the time you ever leave the bathroom!" phil's patience was wearing thin.

"can you help me?" dan's voice called from the bathroom. phil didn't really know what dan wanted, and he was admittedly a little bit scared to go in there. nonetheless, he took off his backpack, setting his phone and the checklist down on the coffee table next to it.

phil tapped the door with his knuckles three times, hearing a quiet "come in" before twisting the knob and going in.

phil had braced himself for a lot of things he'd see once the bathroom door was open, but he didn't expect to see dan fully-clothed and standing in the bath with the water running. phil couldn't help but giggle, covering his mouth with his hand.

"what's funny?" dan asked quickly. "did i do something that's funny? stop laughing at me!"

"you've gotta take off you clothes first," phil managed to giggle out. "and you can turn that knob right there for the shower," phil motioned to the handle on the wall, turning it up with his fingers. the water began to fall from the showerhead, splashing off of phil's forearm and burning his skin. he quickly pulled his arm back.

"ahh! that's hot!" phil shook his arm to rid himself of both the water and the burning sensation running over his skin. "is that not hot to you?"

dan face flashed with concern. "not really," his voice sounded panicked. "should it be?" his eyes widened as he watched steam start to rise from the shower.

"i mean, if that's what you're used to on whatever planet you're from, i guess it's not hot," phil reasoned. "but would you mind turning it down a bit? i've gotta pay for that hot water."

dan nodded, a little embarrassed. phil grinned sympathetically.

"maybe we can go to the shops tomorrow, okay?" phil suggested. dan nodded again.

"in the meantime, that blue bottle is shampoo, that green bottle is conditioner, and that black bottle is body wash. you don't need a lot of any of them to get the job done. shampoo goes before conditioner, blah blah blah, that kinda stuff. anything else you need help with before i let you do your business?" phil wasn't too sure what dan knew and what he didn't; he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. "guess you didn't learn that stuff back home, huh?" he tried to make light of the situation, but he didn't think it was working.

dan stifled a laugh. "yeah, i guess i forgot about basic stuff like hygiene. i think i got it, though," dan finally smiled.

"i hope so," phil chuckled. "just leave your clothes in the sink and i'll come to wash them after you finish, cool?"

"cool."

phil nodded and made his way out, closing the door behind him.

**// we call this fixer upper home.**

the next day was saturday, and hopefully they’d be able to get something done in regards of furnishing dan’s room. phil wasn’t even sure how long dan would be staying, see as how he wasn’t exactly _of this world,_ but an odd feeling in his gut told him to prepare for the most extreme of circumstances; dan could stay forever and a day if he wanted to, and if he didn’t, at least now phil would have a guest room.

dan for some reason had decided to sleep on the floor of his newly-appropriated room, rather than on the arguably more comfortable sofa. phil asked him why, and dan simply replied, “i’m getting used to home.” phil didn’t really understand it, but at the same time it made all the sense in the world.

waking dan up was an exhausting experience, to say the least. he kept complaining that his back hurt, to which phil replied grumpily “well, that’s what you get for sleeping on the floor, dummy.” he never was much of a morning person. dan, on the other hand, after getting over the initial discomfort of sleeping on the floor, was ready to burst out the front door while phil was still in his pajamas making coffee.

“how are you so _chipper_?” phil asked as he leaned against the counter and nursed his coffee that was decidedly not strong enough.

“i’m not really sure,” dan answered. he was sitting on the island, swinging his legs back and forth against the cabinets below. “guess i’m just excited, is all.”

phil rolled his eyes and smiled. he had to admit, dan was adorable. it was endearing, seeing someone so naive and blissfully ignorant to normal human things. phil knew that all the research and reading in the universe couldn’t possibly prepare dan for what the earth had to throw at him. phil let dan have his moment, though; he knew how hard those moments were to come across.

“well, seeing as how you’re already dressed, how about i go ahead and get ready, and then we can head into town? does that sound good?” phil sat his now empty mug in the sink behind him.

“sounds good!” phil could tell dan could hardly contain his excitement. “i’ll be waiting here!”

“i wouldn’t expect anything less,” phil chuckled, walking to his room to get ready.

fifteen minutes later, phil was finally ready to go, and dan was sitting by the front door like a puppy waiting to go for a walk.

“so i take it you’re ready to go?” phil laughed, grabbing his backpack and keys, which signaled for dan to stand up.

the moment the two had stepped outside, dan was already utterly dumbfounded. phil, on the other hand, was in an odd limbo between telling dan how his neighborhood’s “not that special” and going along with dan’s complete awe; he instead opted for the neutral alternative.

“have you never seen earth before? surely, you would’ve done research on that, too,” phil figured.

“I mean, i’ve seen pictures, but…” dan began to trail off, still taking in the sheer realness of it all, “now it’s right in front of me. like, i can feel the wind on my skin and see the leaves moving on the trees and feel the ground under my feet and smell the air. what’s that smell?”

phil didn’t even notice the smell; he was so used to waking up to dewy grass that he hardly ever even thought about it. “oh, that’s just dew on the grass.”

“no, what’s the smell called? i know there’s a word for it—and it’s a really nice word—but i can’t remember what the word is.”

phil pondered for a minute; what was the word? “i think it’s petrichor?”

phil knew as soon as he saw dan’s face begin to beam that it was the right word.

“yes, that’s the one!” dan exclaimed excitedly. “it’s such a fun word, right?”

phil couldn’t help but feel endeared by the somewhat-childlike dan.

“well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, are you ready to go buy your furniture?” phil laughed, shaking his head.

dan could hardly stand still, his body bouncing on his knees as he nodded eagerly.

as they walked into town, dan just had to stop at every little thing. phil didn’t mind it all too much, seeing as how he was in no particularly big rush to meander around ikea all day. dan would hop over all the cracks in the sidewalk, and he’d pick the tallest flowers out of the small yellow patches from the grass, and he’d follow squirrels and birds with his head like a dog. he was like a little kid, really. this world was still foreign and new to him, and all he wanted to do was explore it. phil knew he’d never truly understand it the way dan did, but he could still relate to and reminisce about his childhood that was well spent exploring. phil could still remember being a curious little kid, climbing trees and eating dirt and wandering aimlessly around his small northern town. that of course evolved into phil’s love for plants and botany, which was especially helpful when his little 12-year-old brain decided it wouldn’t be the best idea to eat those red berries that grew on the shrubbery behind his house.

after a thirty-minute-that-should’ve-been-ten-minute walk into town, the pair had finally reached what may as well have been the promised land: ikea. before they entered, however, phil ever-so-discreetly pulled dan aside to have a small, hushed “i get that you’re excited about human stuff and you’re gonna wanna touch all the stuff but we’re in public so you gotta act natural because i’m not chasing you around ikea all day” conversation with dan. dan simply nodded in response, and phil took that as the okay to go inside.

and just as phil had anticipated, dan was in awe. phil watched as dan’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, skating from one side of the store to the other as if he was reading a book. obviously enveloped in the sheer massiveness of ikea, dan nearly wandered off into his own little world. that is, until phil managed to grab his arm and pull him back to earth.

“dan, you’ve gotta stay with me, okay?” phil said, like he was talking to a child. in a way, talking to dan _was_ like talking to a child. a very smart but lacking in common sense child.

dan once again gave a simple nod before whining, “okayyyy, but where are we going first?”

“wherever you want,” phil chuckled. dan lit up again at phil’s words, but phil knew he’d quickly have to shut them down. “but we can’t go too wild with the home decor, i’m not made of money.”

“yeah, i know. you’re made of flesh and blood, which are made of organs, which are made of tissues, which are made of cells, which are made of-“

“it’s just an expression,” phil laughed, quickly raising a finger to dan’s lips to shush him. “what i mean is that i can’t afford to furnish your room better than the rest of the actual flat.”

“but _phil,_ ” dan began to whine again, “everything looks so _cool!_ ”

“i _know,_ ” phil mock-whined in reply, “but right now, we’re just gonna buy what you need.”

dan huffed, “ _fine._ ”

“so, where to first?” phil asked. “there’s beds and bedding over there,” he said, gesturing to the right. “wardrobes and nightstands over there,” he pointed in another direction. “and other little decoration-y bits back there.”

dan pondered for a moment before running off—without a single word spoken—in the direction of the beds. phil grumbled and rolled his eyes, quickly following suit.

eventually, phil did catch up to dan, huffing and puffing as he ran up beside him. he wasn’t exactly in optimal shape for people his age.

“what kind of bed should i get?” dan spoke, obviously noticing a very short-winded phil beside him.

“the mattress you get doesn’t really matter, but it depends on if you want a big bed or a little one.”

“i think i want a big one, is that okay?” dan couldn’t help but seek approval from the man who had graciously agreed to take him in.

“that’s perfectly fine,” phil reassured him, making an order for a full-size bed to be shipped to his apartment within the next few days. “now, what kind of bedding do you want?”

“i dunno, what does yours look like?”

phil was a bit taken aback by the question, but he decided the accept the maybe-flattery and answer the question. “i have blue and green bedding, but they make it in different colors. they shouldn’t be too hard to find…”

luckily enough, phil’s bedding was somewhat generic, so it wasn’t too hard to find it alongside its warm-toned and greyscale companions. almost instantaneously, dan was drawn to the greyscale equivalent of phil’s bedding, picking up a package of the bedding and clutching it across his chest.

the rest of their ikea adventure was relatively easy; the cheapest nightstand, wardrobe, and bed frame were all selected in black. phil ordered those, some pillows, a lamp, and a few other bits and bobs for dan’s room. and of course, phil had to buy a fake plant or two for “embellishment”.

“you ready to go?” phil said to dan after finalizing the orders.

“yeah, i guess. when is all the stuff gonna get to the apartment?”

“some time in the next week, i think. are you excited about it?”

“i’m not sure…” dan strayed off for a moment as they walked toward the exit. “what does being excited feel like?”

phil laughed, “have you never been excited before?”

“i think i have, but i don’t remember it. is it kinda like your face hurts too much from smiling and your stomach feels weird and you feel like you can’t stay still?” it wasn’t until dan mentioned them that phil had noticed the pressing grin on dan’s face and the way he bounced on his toes as he walked.

“is that how you feel right now?”

“yeah.”

“then i guess you’re excited.”

dan was silent for a moment. “are you excited, phil?”

now it was phil’s turn to be silent with thought. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

**// i want to tell you but i don’t know how.**

it had nearly been a year since dan landed in phil’s garden, alternatively known as the day the two had mutually agreed would be dan’s birthday—or, as phil liked to put it, dan’s _garden sabotage day_ —and life had gone on pretty normally. well, as normally as it can go when housing a literal alien.

phil had graduated university and found a job at a flower shop, to which dan congratulated with _“look at you! moving on up in the botanical world, aren’t you?”_ dan, coincidentally enough, managed to find a job in the coffee shop across the street from the flower shop. _a tumblr romantic’s dream,_ phil thought to himself whenever they walked to work together.

for the most part, dan had assimilated to human life. he _eventually_ got the hang of personal hygiene, after a rather lengthy lecture on phil’s part consisting of _“look i don’t care how often you bathed on wherever-you’re-from but you haven't showered in three days and you smell like the rotten tomatoes in the backyard so go take a shower!”_ he complained about the weather and drank black tea with two sugars like any other stereotypical briton. he watched netflix and lazed around on the sofa like any other young adult. he listened to music with the volume too loud and hit snooze on his alarm far too often and ate far too much junk food. if phil didn’t know better, he would assume that dan was a normal person, a normal human being. they actually sometimes forgot that dan was an alien, but then one of them would look in the backyard and see the shuttle that phil had managed to convert into a strange flowerbed—that was somehow perfect for roses—and be reminded of the late summer night that changed their lives forever.

today was like any other day, of course. they woke up, had breakfast together, went to work, came home, had dinner, and sat on the sofa until phil realized how late it was getting and decided to head to bed. phil stood, yawning as he stretched out from his designated side of the sofa.

“dan, it’s like 2am, we have work in the morning,” phil yawned again.

“i’ll go to bed in a minute,” dan brushed off, still looking at the tv. “g’night.”

“g’night,” phil disappeared into his bedroom, leaving dan alone on the sofa.

dan never actually went to his bedroom that night. he was too busy thinking about the weird feeling he’d had for the past week or so. he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. a _whooshing_ feeling? he thought to himself. is that how to describe it?

he thought back as far as he could to what he’d learned on his home planet. there was something he remembered, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. something about… foreign planet exposure? he could hear voices without faces telling him to heed the warning signs, but what were the warning signs?

no matter how hard dan tried, he just couldn’t remember what his teachers had told him all those years ago. he hardly ever thought about home. _home_ home. it was a passing thought when he looked up at the sky. it streaked across his mind like the headlights of cars in the street at night.

so what did dan do? he brushed off the whooshing feeling as eating maybe-old pizza for dinner, and he credited the foreign planet exposure to a mistaken memory he’d somehow absorbed from some obscure sci-fi show.

dan yawned, checking his phone for the time. _how is it already 4am?_ he thought to himself. nonetheless, he turned off the tv and went to bed, hoping that four hours of sleep would be enough to get him through a 9-to-5 shift at work. he hoped the convenience of working at a coffeeshop would work out in his favor.

needless to say, dan was a pain in the ass to wake up the next morning.

“you said you were gonna go to bed!” phil grumbled crankily, hitting dan with one of the pillows from his bed.

“i did,” dan argued. “…eventually.”

“we have to leave in a hour,” phil mumbled, dropping the pillow down on dan’s face. “and you know i’m gonna stay here and make myself late for work for you.”

“isn’t that what friends are for?” dan grinned cheekily from under the pillow. “i’ll be up in a minute, ‘promise.”

“whatever you say, daniel.”

dan finally emerged from his room a few minutes later, clad in his black-on-black-on-black uniform.

“ _finally,_ ” phil called from the kitchen. “all you’ve got time for is cereal, sleepyhead.”

“i’m not that hungry right now,” dan called back, plopping down on the sofa.

phil paused, peeking out from the kitchen. “how are you not hungry?”

“i dunno, i’m just not hungry.”

phil shrugged, “alright then.”

dan sat quietly on the sofa as phil scarfed down a bowl of cereal, twiddling his thumbs around each other in circles. he’d somehow managed to zone out in the seven minutes it took for phil to finish off his cereal, as phil was waving a hand over his face trying to get his attention when he realized he had zoned out in the first place.

“are you okay? we’re gonna be late, c’mon,” phil pulled dan up from the sofa and led him out of the apartment, haphazardly locking the door behind him.

as they walked, dan noticed his head start to hurt. he was constantly fluttering his eyes in an effort to stay awake. maybe he was coming down with something, a cold or whatever. he didn’t think twice about it, really; while he couldn’t remember much of what he’d learned from home-home, he remembered that most human diseases and illnesses were definitely not going to kill him.

phil, on the other hand, didn’t take much notice to dan’s little predicament. they simply walked alongside each other into town, both hoping that dan hadn’t made them late for work.

once they reached the street, they said their goodbyes accordingly and walked across from each other into work.

dan nearly fell asleep three times on the job, but luckily, his manager was quite forgiving of university-age kids being dead tired. he was downing coffee by the hour, which most definitely was not healthy, but then again, dan didn’t really adhere to human medical standards. he sluggishly made people’s coffee, receiving pseudo-sympathetic tssks from customers when he told them that he hardly got any sleep last night. they all just assumed he was in university and that’s why he was up so late. and dan wasn’t really opposed to the idea of people not being angry at him for possibly messing up their orders, so he wasn’t complaining.

meanwhile, phil was quite enjoying his time at the flower shop. it was especially fun to help panicked customers in desperate search of something to give their significant others for some forgotten anniversary. the owner would usually leave phil to take care of them, as he was probably the only employee who knew what they were doing, rather than some kid trying to make money. they often joked about how phil could practically run the place in his sleep with his vast knowledge of every single flower sold in the shop, but phil would always argue that he couldn’t be trusted with such a huge responsibility. and besides, he was too busy taking care of dan to run a business. he could hardly take care of his own share of houseplants and himself and dan at the same time.

work went by as usual. on the walk home, they reminisced about a frantic and scattered guy with glasses who had rushed into the coffee shop, took someone else’s coffee, and rushed across the street into the flower shop to buy snapdragons.

“why snapdragons?” dan giggled amusedly. “that’s such a random flower.”

“who wouldn’t want snapdragons?” phil jokingly defended. “you squeeze ‘em and they open like a mouth!”

“it’s still random.”

“hey, in his defense, he did mention that his daughter loved snapdragons.”

“well, why didn’t you start with that!?” dan yelled. “at least that makes more sense than some guy running in to buy snapdragons.”

they both laughed for a moment at the thought of a guy buying snapdragons for some random occasion before dan asked, “do you think he was buying them for his kid?”

“probably,” phil began, “but for what?”

“maybe it’s her birthday?”

“yeah, maybe.”

“will you buy me flowers for my birthday?” dan slight topic change threw phil for a bit of a loop.

“why do you want flowers, dan?”

“well, you seem to like them a lot,” dan started to trail off. “i just wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

phil rolled his eyes and smirked, “alright, i’ll buy you some flowers for your _garden sabotage day_.”

“are you always gonna call it that?” dan groaned. “it’s been a year, phil, and it’s not my fault autopilot had an ill will with your roses, or whatever.”

“i still haven’t been able to revive them!” phil shouted. “they’re gone forever thanks to you!”

“well _so-rry!_ ”

this, of course, was a common occurrence in the world of dan and phil. any domestic they had could always be traced back to the crushed hybrid roses. bringing it up usually just made them double over in a fit of giggles and forget what they were bickering about in the first place. truly, it was a quite effective method of settling disputes.

by the time they’d finished hysterically cackling over the poor roses, they had already reached the apartment. once they entered the door, both had made an mutual telepathic agreement to collapse onto the sofa and embark on yet another netflix marathon.

“ _kill bill_?” phil asked, shedding himself of his backpack, jacket, and shoes.

“sure,” dan replied, shrugging of his backpack and shoes in response.

today was a lazy day, so of course they had a lazy dinner. well, an affordable dinner, to be exact. being a freshly-graduated uni student with another mouth to feed wasn’t exactly cheap. as the two settled into their designated sofa creases, dan felt that strange feeling again. the odd whooshing feeling, or was his stomach just rumbling? dan left it to just being hungry and thought nothing of it. an oncoming cold and a hungry stomach. yeah, that made sense, right?

the pizza had finally arrived, but dan suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. he ate some anyway, hoping it would put him at ease, or at least distract him from them.

he didn’t tell phil any of this, of course. phil was preoccupied with other stuff. money stuff, work stuff, home stuff, plant stuff. besides, it wasn’t anything to bother phil about. phil had done so much for him already, and dan figured it was time to start taking care of himself.

**// there was an avalanche of change.**

six years later, dan and phil were still trucking along. phil was still working at the flower shop, but dan had found other means of income: being a dj at bbc radio 1. neither of them could quite remember how dan managed to come across such an opportunity, but they weren’t complaining. it brought substantially more income than the flower shop and coffee shop combined, so why ruin a good thing? it was especially nice when dan was allowed to have guests on his shows, almost always picking phil.

dan still had that strange feeling sometimes. the whooshing feeling. he still hadn’t told phil about it. it had become the norm to dan. every so often, his stomach would feel like a waving flag, and dan just pushed the feeling into the back of his mind. nothing bad had happened of it yet, so he figured it was nothing to worry about.

but maybe dan had spoken too soon.

dan’s 24th garden sabotage day was fast approaching, and neither of them could be more excited. they couldn’t believe that it had already been six years since dan found himself in phil’s backyard. it was such a bizarre and terrifying thing to think about, but it was overwhelmingly exhilarating at the same time.

it was a normal morning in the dan and phil house. coincidentally, they both had a day off, which meant hanging out and being as unproductive as humanly possible. phil had woken up first, as usual, and decided to wait for dan to wake up before having breakfast. it was an unplanned routine they had started, but they soon found themselves waiting for the other to wake up so they could eat breakfast and watch tv together.

phil sat for what had to have been two hours before realizing that dan still hadn’t gotten up. _he’s usually up by now,_ he thought. _maybe i should go check on him._ phil walked to dan’s door, rapping his knuckles a few times on the white door.

“dan?” he said through the door. “you awake?” nothing. he rapped his knuckles again. “hello?”

slowly, cautiously, phil opened the door to find dan curled into himself, covered and sweat with his skin a frighteningly blue tinge. he quickly rushed to dan’s side, reaching out to shake his shoulder and finding his skin burning up.

“dan!” he exclaimed, rolling dan onto his back. “wake up!”

dan’s eyes cracked open slightly. his mouth attempted to move in an effort to speak, but no sound would come out. he managed to croak out a near-inaudible “something’s wrong.”

phil’s first instinct was to call an ambulance and get dan rushed to the hospital until it dawned on him: dan _was an alien_. phil still wasn’t too sure of the exact details, but he was fairly certain that taking an alien to a human hospital would result in a) subjecting dan to government testing beyond belief, and b) losing his best friend to said government testing.

dan had fallen back to sleep in the time it took for phil to rush through every idea he could come up with. then suddenly he remembered: _the ship!_ in a panic, he slipped on a pair of shoes and rushed into the backyard. in a split decision, he overturned the makeshift flower bed, dumping its contents into the grass. there was a small compartment at the back of the interior that neither phil nor dan had been able to open, but it was glowing an eerily green color. with all of his strength, phil managed to pry off the latch, revealing an envelope labeled in big red letters: IN CASE OF FOREIGN PLANET EXPOSURE, PLEASE OPEN. without a second though, phil tore the top of the envelope of and pulled the letter out. he quickly skimmed over it, reading of flu-like symptoms and imminent death. at the bottom of the letter, there appeared to be an address, for a doctor. maybe he can help, phil told himself. maybe he knows what to do.

the next week went by in a flash. between booking plane tickets and packing, phil was stressed out of his mind. he was taking dan to the address on the envelope, all the way in the united states. dan had returned somewhat back to his normal self, seemingly forgetting about the day phil found him looking like he was about to drop dead. every time dan would ask why he and phil were going to america, phil would respond “it’ll come to you, eventually.” dan didn’t know what phil meant by that.

it was the night they were due to be leaving, and dan had jolted awake with a revelation: he was sick. bad sick. he remembered all of the whooshing feelings, and the day he woke up to phil yelling at him to wake up while in a pool of his own sweat, and what his teachers had told him all those years ago: _foreign planet exposure can result from being on other planets. the symptoms begin similar to a cold on earth. you’ll experience headaches, as well as a quavering feeling in your stomach. they’ll be inconsistent for the first few years, so much so that you won’t even think they’re related to each other. but then the symptoms become similar to the human flu. you’ll experience bouts of profuse sweating and body aches. this is when you’ve entered the life-or-death stage. if this stage is not treated within a year of its first occurrence, it’s is often fatal._

bad sick, indeed.

**// our bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die.**

“it’s not foreign planet exposure,” the man said.

the walls were a ghastly shade of beige, the lights were obnoxiously bright, and the room was oddly cold. dan sat, wrapped in a hospital gown, on the examination table. phil sat opposite him in a chair, his body visibly shaking with anxiety.

“t- then…” phil stuttered. “what is it?”

“it’s the flu,” the man said, but there was something about the way he said it that made it sound worse than the flu.

phil didn’t think twice about breathing a sigh of relief. “then he should be fine, right? it’s just the flu.”

the man shook his head. “unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”

the man allowed dan to get back into his regular clothes. once dan returned, he sat in the chair beside phil, who looked like he would pass out at any moment.

the man breathed a heavy sigh before beginning. “you see, the thing about what you came here for—foreign planet exposure—is that it’s extremely treatable if it’s treated within the year. but with human diseases, those are substantially harder to treat. dan, your immune system is incredibly different from phil’s. in your case of being a human exchange, it’s the only difference between you and the rest of the human race.”

both dan and phil sat silent for a moment before dan spoke for the first time since he described his symptoms. “so, where does that put us?”

“well, it’s basically going to start attacking your body like cancer, and that’s with treatment. it can be better treated on your home planet, but the chance of you being able to reach them and get back home is slim. and here on earth, your chance of survival with treatment is even slimmer.”

“so,” phil said, his voice shaking as he sat up in his chair, “how long does he have, with treatment, on earth?”

“best case scenario is maybe two years. worst case is six months.”

“and what’s he?”

“somewhere in between.”

**// i’ll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness.**

after the doctor’s visit, dan spent most of his time holed away in his room, and phil spent most of his time trying to get dan to come out of his room.

they had opted for seeking treatment. well, phil managed to convince dan to go through with the treatment. dan was adamantly against it at first, most likely the fight-or-flight response he had developed from his time on earth. no long-winded speech about how _“giving up isn’t the answer”_ that phil could give would ever convince dan to go through with the treatment, but a teary-eyed plea of _“i don’t want to lose my best friend”_ was all it took for dan to crack. was is selfish? probably. was it guilt-tripping? most definitely. but it kept phil’s best friend around for a little longer, and that was all either of them really wanted.

it went on like that for weeks, months even. dan would only ever leave his room to use the bathroom, to get food, or to go to another appointment. of course, the radio show was a thing of the past; after dan had missed two weeks in a row while ignoring every phone call, they just stopped calling.

all the days blended together in a swirl of hospital rooms and hair that hadn’t been washed in god knows how long, but phil was counting the days until finally six months had passed. they had made it past worst case scenario, but now they didn’t know when it was coming.

the first appointment after the six-month mark, phil asked the doctor if there were any signs for when it would happen. of course, he made sure dan was out of earshot, waiting until the door of the room had been closed completely before asking anything. no one could be in the room with dan during treatment, anyway; the treatment was stronger than most human radiation treatments. besides, knowing the answer would only make dan scared, phil knew that for certain. the two spoke in hushed tones, wary of any word that could trespass the walls.

“with cases like this, patients will get better before they get worse. he’ll start acting like his old self again, which will make him think he’s getting better,” the doctor sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hands. “mr. lester, you need to let him think that he’s getting better.”

saying that phil was at a complete and utter loss for words would be an understatement. he sat quietly, leg bouncing, thumbs wrapping around each other nervously, mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a response before he finally whispered, “okay.”

looking dan in the eye proved to be the most difficult thing in the world for phil after that. he knew what was going to happen eventually, and he knew that he had to keep it a secret, but he couldn’t deny the guilt that filled his body every time he thought about it.  
phil sat quietly in the kitchen at some odd hour of the morning, nursing a cup of coffee; sleeping had been a rare luxury as of late. he glanced into the backyard, forgotten in the years since he’d met dan, brown and tangled together in a heap of dead roses and vines. maybe i’ll be able to fix it soon. the thought made phil shudder. how soon? he wanted to ask, but he knew facing a reality that he hardly believed anyway would only make him feel worse than he already did.

another six months passed with the same old routine. more appointments, more questions, more late nights. they hardly talked anymore. well, dan hardly talked anymore. he stopped responding to phil’s good mornings and good nights. the only time either of them exchanged any words was when dan woke up in the middle of the night, coughing and sputtering a mixture of “phil!” and “can’t- breathe-“

dan was getting sicker and sicker, faster and faster, and all phil knew how to do was sit with him and rub his back and coo him, like all of the mother-like nurturing in the universe would save him. at this point, phil had to understand that there was no saving him. no amount of treatment or care could change anything. they needed a miracle, but phil wasn’t sure if he believed in those anymore. he wasn’t sure if he believed in anything. there was no praying, no pleading, no nothing.

phil used to be the reckless optimist. he used to believe in miracles and fate and luck. he was young, hopeful. fresh out of uni, only three cares in the world: his plants, his job, and his happiness. he even got a decent amount of sleep every night. but then dan came in, and that all fell apart. sure, he was happy, but happiness can only last so long. at 28 years old, phil should be settled down, married and thinking about family. but he still lives in the same apartment he rented when he was a fresh-faced uni graduate. hasn’t had a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything but dan. he could be a normal person with a normal life, but here he is, taking care of his best friend from another planet that he hasn’t had a real conversation with in over a year, spending most nights either crying or tending to dan.

maybe that was his own fault, phil realized.

maybe he’s the one to blame for the future that he never intended on having.

but maybe, just maybe, the future he never intended on having was better than any future he could have ever dreamed of having.

**// we pull apart the darkness while we can.**

another three months gone, a total 15 months since diagnosis, and dan was his normal self again.

phil knew it was coming. but he couldn’t take this for granted, not after everything they’d been through together. six years of the most fun either of them had ever had, and one year of a living nightmare. it’s not the ideal life, but it was theirs.

even when dan was “better”, phil still took him to appointments. when dan inevitably asked why he still had to go if he wasn’t sick anymore, the doctor made up some lie about how they had to take extra precautions to make sure he’d stay that way. dan looked so healthy, so happy for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, so phil let dan believe it, just as the doctor had told him to do before.

_“you need to let him think that he’s getting better.”_

on the train ride home from that appointment, dan couldn’t shut up about how good he felt. phil couldn’t help but smile, the guilt that kept him up at night finally residing into something smaller.

“phil, it’s a miracle!” dan beamed. the word struck a chord in phil, smiling painfully at dan before turning his gaze toward the window. dan, thankfully, was too ecstatic to notice, as he just continued going on and on about how everything could finally be normal again and how they beat the odds.

not even halfway through the journey home, dan started making plans, big plans. talking of going to japan together and maybe even going on a road trip through the united states.

“i want to see the world, phil!” dan went on. “i can’t believe we never did anything before!”

phil laughed a sad laugh, “yeah, maybe we can do that some time.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

dan stayed “better” for the next five months, something even the doctor said was unusual. he even went as far as to say that dan may actually pull through. “i might even go as far as to say that it’s a miracle.”

the reckless optimist in phil was coming back, and phil couldn’t be happier about it. he booked tickets to go to japan in april as an early 25th “birthday” present for dan. from the moment dan heard the news, accompanied by a bunch of snapdragons, he would not shut up about it. every morning with a mug of coffee in hand, it was something about going to tokyo. every night on the couch as they watched movies together, it was something about going to the studio ghibli museum. phil would constantly remind him that “april is still three months away,” and dan would always reply with “i know! that’s why i’m planning for it now!” before going back to whatever he was saying about the trip and leaving phil to chuckle and shake his head.

it certainly was nice for phil to have his best friend back. he was his normal, sarcastic, anime-loving self again. phil hadn’t realized how much he actually missed dan yelling at him when he ate all of their cereal, or how much he missed dan’s enthusiastic yelling about his favorite things or his passionate ranting about his opinions. dan was dan again, and that was all that mattered.

three months finally passed, and it was time to go to japan. dan hardly slept the night before they left, he was so excited. looking at him, you could hardly tell that only eight months ago he looked nearly dead.

japan was more than dan could’ve ever imagined. he took pictures of practically everything they breathed on, it seemed. phil had to admit, dan’s constant nagging for selfies together was as endearing as it was annoying. besides, dan had a face that phil just couldn’t say no to.

they were just so happy. disgustingly so, in fact. they had both nearly forgotten that dan was ever sick in the first place.

“it truly is a miracle,” dan said out of the blue on the plane ride home.

“what is?” phil asked, still holding his gaze on his book.

“this. me, being here. us, being here.”

phil looked up, closing his book and turning to dan. “you mean, after everything that happened?”

“yeah. i was so sick, so close to being gone, but i got better. it’s a miracle.”

phil smiled. “maybe we all get a miracle.”

dan smiled back. “maybe we do.”

phil went back to reading his book, and dan went back to staring out the window and listening to his music. everything was so comfortable and normal.

something inside phil knew it was too good to be true. he mustn’t forget: nothing lasts forever.

**// there was bad blood in us.**

phil didn’t want to be right. he really didn’t.

but a week on the dot after they returned home from japan, it all fell apart.

everything fell apart.

they were fine. everything was fine. phil was finally sleeping. dan was finally happy. their life was quiet and normal, until dan sat up in the middle of the night, gasping and crying out for phil.

the moment phil heard dan’s voice, he ran. he ran to find dan doubled over himself in his bed, coughing and wheezing and begging for help. phil didn’t know what to do, running through every possible remedy and scenario in his head.

the doctor had prepared phil for this six months into diagnosis. god, that seemed like forever ago. he’d given phil medication to be used _“when it’s time.”_ phil asked when exactly that would be, but the doctor only offered, _“you’ll know.”_

and phil knew. so he picked dan up, hauled him to the sofa, and ran to the kitchen. he knew it was somewhere, rifling through every drawer trying to find the bottle until finally—“found it!”

“found-“ cough. “what-“ wheeze.

“medicine!” phil rushed, running over to dan and sitting beside him. “tilt your head back and open your mouth.”

dan did as he was told, and phil poured the dark liquid into dan’s mouth.

“okay, now try to swallow.”

dan inhaled sharply through his nose once, twice as he tried to get the thick liquid down. once he’d succeeded, he lurched forward into phil’s chest and gasped, gulping in as much air as he could.

in that moment, dan knew. he knew what phil had known since that fateful visit nearly a year ago. he knew what was coming, and he knew that there was nothing they could do about it.

“phil,” dan gasped, raising his head from where it was on phil’s chest to look at him. “it’s almost over, isn’t it?”

“yeah,” phil whispered. “yeah, it is.”

“i guess we used our miracle.”

**// you taught me the courage of stars before you left.**

nearly two years after diagnosis, they were back at square one. phil wasn’t getting sleep because he was taking care of dan. dan wasn’t getting sleep because he needed to be taken care of.

phil thought he was scared, he couldn’t even imagine how dan must feel. nowadays, he stayed in phil’s room. that made it easier for the both of them in case something happened, and dan said it made him more comfortable knowing that someone was there. what he meant by that, phil wasn’t sure, but even dan’s sickly pale face was still one that phil couldn’t say no to.

dan usually went to bed before phil did every night, more fatigued than he was when he first got sick, but today, dan wasn’t in bed. phil’s head kicked into overdrive, checking every room in the house only to find no sign of dan. so he checked outside, but still found no dan. he was shouting frantically for him, knowing he was waking the neighbors but not giving a shit because in this moment phil was terrified and that was all that mattered.

phil searched up and down, and he didn’t know what to do. there was no sign of dan anywhere, so where could he have gone? with every cry of dan’s name, phil’s voice grew more and more strained, tears welling in his eyes.

“phil,” a voice called out. phil hardly even heard it.

he looked up, finding dan’s head peeking out over the edge of the roof.

“how in god’s name did you get up there?” phil asked.

“i’m not even sure, honestly,” they both laughed, each one painful in their own right. “come up here, it’s nice.”

phil somehow managed to climb his way onto the roof. dan had since laid back down, curled into a blanket with one right beside him, presumably for phil.

“you kinda look like e.t,” phil said, wrapping the blanket around himself.

“phil, our life is literally the plot of _e.t_ ,” dan smiled before coughing.

“wow, i can’t believe stephen spielberg directed our life,” phil chuckled.

dan laugh-coughed again. “lay down. the stars are pretty.”

phil was at no position to deny dan anything he wanted, so he laid down next to dan.

“we look like burritos,” phil mumbled to dan. “why are we up here, anyway?”

“i just wanted to look,” dan replied.

“at what?”

“everything.”

phil knew there was some sort of metaphorical resonance in that, but he was too tired to try and comprehend it.

“i know you didn’t get that,” dan said, in his old matter-of-fact tone. “so i’ll explain it anyway.”

dan coughed as he sat up, and phil sat up with him, turning himself to face dan.

“right here, in this spot, we have our own special view of the universe,” he coughed again. “almost like it was made just to be seen by us, by our eyes. and in a way, the view from here is infinite, does that make sense?”

“a little,” phil mumbled. “could you explain it again?”

“yeah, i’ll keep going,” another cough. “like, the right now, we’re looking at dead stars. but we’re also looking at stars that haven’t even formed yet, and planets that haven’t been discovered yet. we’re looking at black holes and galaxies and every element that’s ever been discovered and then some. in this moment, we’re looking at everything that ever was and ever will be. every element is right before our very eyes,” dan began to cough again, and phil had to hit his palm against dan’s back to help him stop.

he began talking again, short of breath and gasping between phrases. “and yet—those elements have come together to create us. they created this planet—and they created where i’m from—and they created you and me. of all things, they came together and made us. and they’ll continue to create things—even after we’re gone. just like you’ll continue to live after i’m gone. isn’t that crazy?”

“yeah,” phil breathed. “that is crazy. and a bit poetic.”

“how rare and beautiful it truly is to even exist. how rare and beautiful is truly is that _we_ exist.”

“okay shakespeare, calm down,” phil chuckled.

dan gasp-laughed. “shakespeare’s got nothing on me!”

“well i can’t argue with that, now come on, let’s go inside,” phil dropped his blanket and began to stand.

“ _no,_ ” dan protested, weakly grasping at phil’s hand to stop him. “i wanna stay out here.”

“why?”

“because i’m dying and just now realizing how incredible my life really is.”

phil sat back down, “and i’m guessing you want me to stay here?”

“will you?” dan coughed once again.

“only for you,” phil wrapped the blanket back around himself and laid down beside dan once more.

“goodnight, phil. see you in the morning.”

“goodnight, dan. see you in the morning.”

“hey, phil?” dan whispered.

“yeah?”

“did i ever show you where i’m from?”

phil turned to face dan once more. “do you have pictures or something?”

dan cough-laughed. “no, unfortunately--but i have fingers,” he pointed to a spot in the sky, obvious to him but a bit unclear to phil. “you see that really bright one right in the middle?”

phil squinted. “yeah.”

“that’s where i’m from,” dan’s voice was weak and thick.

“Is it nice?” phil asked.

“yeah,” dan coughed. “really nice.”

phil knew dan was crying--and he was crying, too. it was quiet for a moment before dan spoke again.

“it was fun, yeah?”

“what was?”

“us. we had a pretty fun life, didn’t we?” dan sniffled

“yeah, yeah we did,” it took all phil had in him to hold back a sob.

“i wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. no, anything in the universe.”

“neither would i.”

“good. goodnight, for real, this time.”

“goodnight.”

**// slowly, then all at once.**

they both knew dan wouldn’t wake up the next morning, deep down. but it was okay. at least, it would be. phil knew he’d miss dan more than anything in the universe, but he would be okay. phil would miss dan every morning when he woke up and every night when he went to bed, but he would always remember that night. he would always remember sitting on the roof, wrapped in blankets as dan described the universe. he’d always remember dan’s laugh and his smile and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

phil didn’t doubt that he’d never meet anyone as kind and caring and beautiful as dan was. he knew that he’d never be touched as deeply by another person—human or other—as he had been by dan. dan brought something to phil’s life that could never be matched. people could come and go, but dan and phil would remain. they’d always have japan and staying up late watching movies together and their own little view of the universe on phil’s roof.

what they had was something few people will ever understand. best friends under the most bizarre of circumstances, but incredible nonetheless.

_“how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist.”_


End file.
